


press f/f to pay respects

by kismetNemesis



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dancing, Disguise, Epistolary, F/F, FatTFemslash, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Making Out, Marriage, Pining, Sex Work, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kismetNemesis/pseuds/kismetNemesis
Summary: My FatT Femslash week fills! From every season, with spoilers for each, probably.1. Adaire/Hella2. Aria/Jacqui3. Signet/Tender4. Alexa/The Selkie5. Patty/Florence6. Aubrey/Castille7. Gray/Demani





	1. Spring / Winter (Hella/Adaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adaire and Hella, in the time between seasons.

It was warm inside the Blade. That was what struck Adaire, the perfection of everything: the blue sky, the green grass, the temperate weather. She didn’t trust it. The gloom and doom and gray of the endless winter had seemed about right. 

Everything was calm and still, like a pool of stagnant water. Hella and Hadrian weren’t talking about whatever had happened between them and the ring and the sword; Lem wasn’t talking about Fero; Adelaide never spoke to any of them besides Hella.

Adelaide’s presence explained a lot, if she herself did not. Adaire had known Hella before Nacre, and attributed her distance to the changes of time, but now that Adelaide was out of Hella’s brain, Hella was as close to the Hella Adaire remembered as she had ever been. Adaire couldn’t imagine living with someone else in her head. She’d do--something drastic.

None of them were happy in the sword town, but neither were they miserable. Against all odds Adaire found something growing between them, something shooting up a pale green stem. She’d tried so hard to woo Hella’s favor on the outside, but now she barely had to try at all to get Hella to spend time with her. It was good for her, strategically. That had always been what their relationship was, a ploy to get the strongest woman she’d ever met as a permanent ally. 

Hella was more perfect than the weather. She didn’t ask questions, she could fight, she was beautiful, she made Adaire smile. She made something in Adaire’s chest tighten. Adaire wanted to kiss her far-away forehead. Adaire wanted to hold her down and touch every inch of her. Adaire, clearly, had a problem.

There was nothing for her hands or her brain to do that was more engaging than delving into the crush she’d been unexpectedly saddled with. She picked at it like a stubborn knot until it unraveled and revealed to her, unequivocally, that she was in love with Hella Varal. Adaire was not a person who fell in love, but she had gotten there somehow. Perhaps she had stumbled.

One day she couldn’t take stillness any more and backed Hella up against a wall, trying to convey a proposition for something physical, not a confession of any kind of feeling. Hella simply kissed back, no hesitation, which Adaire didn’t care to examine the possible implications of. 

Was she sleeping with Adelaide? Adaire didn’t ask. Had she ever fallen in love? Adaire didn’t ask. Could she love Adaire...?

Would she like to sleep in Adaire’s room tonight? She would. 

In sleep she was a kind of peaceful that Adaire knew she herself could never be. Hella’s physical exertion always drained her, and all her bad dreams had come from the sword (which was gone or closer than ever, depending on how you looked at it). Adaire had been told she herself slept worried, which, frankly, figured.

Adaire put a hand on Hella’s sleeping face and tried to believe that she was okay with this being as good as it got.


	2. Love Letters (Jacqui/Ara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria and Jacqui, love letters through the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little spicier and a little sadder, jsyk. Counterweight spoilers and references to major character death.

A series of missives, in reverse chronological order.

13\. A whisper:

_"I love you, my heart. You’ll always be everything to me."_

12\. A note, scribbled onto the refrigerator’s digital notepad:

_good morning, baby! kisses! please remember to look for cassie’s shoes under her bed this afternoon. we had to get to school but she needs them for her recital. love, J_

11\. A piece of paper, a rarity, slipped into a pocket:

_babe!!! i miss you already, even though you’re snoring next to me. i can’t wait for you to come home and kiss me. it’s boring waiting around for this baby to be born. hurry up already!! is it too late to adopt again? hurry up and come home, wife <3 _

10\. A text message:

_it’s gonna be fine. it’s not today that matters, it’s the rest of our (married!) lives. but yes--we’ll make sure it’s a spectacle, babe._

9\. A text message, one of thirty sent in a flurry:

_did you make sure we have the flowers? i’m not sure we got them. i think i spilled wine on my dress. i can’t get mako to agree to wear something that covers his nipples. i’m drowning. let’s elope._

8\. A shout:

_"Oh, thank god you’re alright. Thank god it’s over."_

7\. A sob:

_"They’re gone, Jacqui, they died--"_

6\. A voice memo, dictated in the cockpit of the Regent’s Brilliance: 

_"Aria, please forgive me. Or--erase memo."_

5\. A text message, sent late at night:

_im thinking about your hands_  
i want to kiss your palms  
i want you to hold my wrists  
i want you inside me 

4\. A voicemail:

_"I don’t know that we’ll ever do it. But we have to try anything we can, right? I can’t imagine letting the world end without standing in the way. And I know you can’t, either."_

3\. An official letter from the office of the Candidate:

_Ms Green, your presence is requested in my office tonight. Wink! They won’t let me put emojis on the official stationary, which is honestly biphobic. And stupid. Anyways I love you. Please let’s have sex on top of my desk._

2\. A piece of paper, even rarer in the days before Weight:

_I’m never going to be over her death. But I’m not dead myself. I don’t want to act like I am anymore._

1\. A long, rambling draft:

_hey Jacqui. i know you probably figured this out already, but i really like you. i want to date you. i waited to say anything until now because of like... a lot of reasons, but i have had such a huge crush on you since you tried to kill me. you’d think i don’t know what’s good for me, but i think i actually do. i think we could be good for each other. i’m sorry to send this over text. i keep chickening out about knocking on your door. ok no i’m not gonna hit send, this is stupid and not romantic. i’m gonna go over there and knock._

_here goes._


	3. Dance / Disguise (Signet/Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signet visits the Steady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the first episode of Twilight Mirage, and I don't give a fuck if there are continuity errors. Includes sex work. Signet Fucks

Signet stepped into the Steady, ironically unsteady. She’d heard of this bar in the many whispers that crossed her ears in her line of work. It was cleverly untethered from the Mesh, and it switched positions regularly, needing new passwords to access. She would count herself lucky to have gotten this week’s word, but she couldn’t kid herself. That kind of information was never a matter of luck for her, but a matter of hard-sought skill.

She’d put on a disguise, simply because the former Excerpt of Belgard could hardly walk around the _By-and-By_ without being talked to. That was her job. Now she was taking a break. Of course, if she found what she was looking for, she’d tell whichever woman she hired who she really was, but for now it didn’t hurt to walk alone.

Tonight everyone was dancing on a small wooden floor surrounded by bubbles and music, moshing together as if in a crowd much bigger than it was. People also sat talking at intimate two-person tables, but Signet was looking for someone on their own. Automatically, she headed for the bar.

Signet was so preoccupied by trying to be subtle in the process of checking out all the women at the bar that she didn’t almost didn’t register the woman with a familiar puff of purple hair busying herself behind the bar. When she did look up, it was with a start.

“What’ll it be?” asked Tender Sky, Signet’s new coworker. Signet swallowed a gasp.

“Water, please.”

Tender rolled her eyes a little, somehow managing not to seem overly condescending. Signet wondered if that was a skill that could be taught. “You’re sure? Nothing fun?”

“I want to save the fun for later.” Tender raised her eyebrows.

“Noted.” She turned to pour the drink, and Signet wondered frantically if Tender had recognized her behind her mesh mask. She was good at that sort of thing, Signet remembered. “What’s your name?” 

Either Tender really didn’t recognize her, or she was trying to play along. “Bel,” she lied, self-indulgent for once. “And yours?”

“Tender. I haven’t seen you here before.” She set the water in front of Signet. She had a drink of her own, something fizzing and pastel.

“I’m new.”

“And yet you fit right in,” Tender mused. “Tell me, Bel, what are you looking for?” 

This, at least, was something Signet wasn’t going to lie about. “I’m looking to make an exchange. Credit for time spent together and for sexual intercourse. Do you know any women who provide these things?”

“I might,” said Tender easily. “What does that time entail, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I do mind.”

“Would you like to dance with me?” Tender finished her drink and tossed the glass carelessly into into the dish bin. Signet blinked, caught off guard but not unpleasantly so.

“I’d enjoy that immensely.”

Her water sat abandoned within the minute. The music started fast, passionate, overwhelming, then faded to something slower before Signet could register the way Tender was pulling at her, whirling past her. 

She didn’t know how she’d ended up slow-dancing with her coworker, but she wasn’t complaining, not on her night off. 

“I could provide those services,” Tender said, lips close to Signet’s ear. “If you wanted.”

“No, I--I’m flattered but--”

“I’m serious, Signet.”

“Oh.”

“Since you walked in,” said Tender, in anticipation of Signet’s unasked question-- _how long have you known it was me?_ “I’m not hitting on you romantically, I promise. Just, uh. Sexually, like you said.” Despite her bravado, Tender was blushing in the Steady’s low light. 

“Mm,” said Signet. No matter how careful she was, this could be messy. But looking at the way Tender’s lipstick smeared a little off of her lips, the way her hair was frizzy and damp with sweat--she wanted messy. “It wasn’t nice to trick me.”

“Takes one to know one,” Tender shot back, then grinned. 

“It’s a transaction.” Signet made her face serious. “We go back to a room, you do some chores, we have sex.” If Tender thought it was a weird thing to ask, she didn’t let on.

“Hell yeah. Deal.” She brought Signet in closer with a hand on her back, spinning her faster. When they stopped, the Steady was gone, and they stood in an ordinary corridor. Signet’s hair was back to blonde, her outfit as stately as usual, but Tender didn’t change at all. “I’m good, huh?” She was probably referring to their easy exit from the mesh, but Signet just thought _yes._

Tender leaned forward and kissed Signet, long and slow, before taking her hand and tugging her down the hallway. 

“Let’s go! We have work tomorrow!” 

Signet opened her mouth to say something scolding, but she closed it again when she felt the remnants of Tender’s lipstick sticking there.


	4. Second Impressions / Stealing Time (Alexa/The Selkie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexa tracks down the selkie again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short & smutty

Alexa just had to keep in touch with the selkie. For one thing, it was polite and good form. For another, Alexa was deeply curious. For the third, she was horny. 

“Oh, wow,” Alexa giggled, running her hand down Seayonce’s side. “Feels just like human skin. Not slimy at all.” 

“I was never slimy,” said Seayonce indignantly. She pouted, which only made her more kissable. She hadn’t told Alexa a name, but she looked so much like Beyonce that Alexa couldn’t shake the nickname from her mind.

“This feels unfair, hold on.” Alexa wriggled out of her shirt and bra, matching her girlfriend’s state of undress. Seayonce’s eyes gleamed, almost alien or animal in their intensity. She kissed Alexa hard, palming at her breasts. Alexa couldn’t help but give a little excited giggle. “Thank you for letting me do this,” she whispered, breathless.

“We’re doing this because I want to,” said Seayonce seriously. “No one makes me do anything anymore.”

“God, of course not.” Alexa clutched a hand to her own chest in sympathy before using that hand to nudge Seayonce’s fingers back towards her nipples. Seayonce rolled them between her fingers, hard, before pushing back on Alexa until she was lying down. She spread herself out over Alexa’s lap, half-naked with her shiny skirt riding up her thighs. 

When they kissed this time she pulled Alexa’s hair, startling a moan out of her and keeping her right where she wanted her. Seayonce’s brown skin was flawless in a way that was either the product of her being a supernatural creature or a killer skincare routine. Alexa wanted to ask, but she wanted to keep kissing her and to keep getting touched way more. 

Alexa put her hands on Seayonce’s hips, marveling at their round perfection. They rocked against her, urgent. Seayonce wasn’t wearing underwear, Alexa noted, though she wasn’t sure if that was part of her seduction plan or just because she didn’t really know how modern human clothes worked. 

“I’m so glad we could hang out more,” she breathed, in between kisses. Seayonce laughed, which was rare and made Alexa’s heart jump.

“I’m glad, too.”


	5. Hands (Patty/Florence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florence doesn't think she could stop Patty from pursuing her even if she wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are apparently just getting smuttier as the week goes on... the rating goes from M to E for this one. What else was I meant to do with "Hands"?! :P

Patty Fink was one mystery Florence couldn’t solve. Ever since they’d first met, Patty had seemed fixated on her. It was very suspicious until it wasn’t; Patty was a low-level criminal, but she was also pretty uselessly gay. Florence used to be like that. Oh, who was she kidding. She was still like that.

Patty was the kind of person who invited herself places, like parties and crime scenes and Florence’s apartment. Generally, Florence valued her privacy, but she was too charmed by the ragged bouquet of Queen Anne’s lace and brighter flowers that she was pretty sure Patty had stolen from other people’s gardens to complain. Patty kicked off her shoes and stretched herself out on Florence’s couch and suddenly they were sitting very close together. 

“I don’t know what you want with an old lady like me,” said Florence. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was some devious plan of Patty’s to steal her stuff or stop a crime or start a crime. She also had a sneaking suspicion that she was sometimes too paranoid, and that Patty was not the best liar she’d ever met. Patty bit her lip distractingly.

“You’re hot,” Patty replied, her voice full of a confidence that didn’t quite reach her reddening face. “Plus I... you know... like you or whatever.” 

“Or whatever,” Florence repeated, amused. 

“Whatever.” Patty took initiative, pushing herself onto her knees on the couch to slide a hand up Florence’s thigh. “Do you want to make out or not?” Florence searched her face, savoring the way she could read Patty’s emotions like a book. Patty gave a little gasp when she kissed her, then grinned against her mouth. 

“I do want to make out.” Florence smiled back. 

“Yesssss.”

They made out. Patty was oddly shy after having moved with so much confidence to begin with. Florence suspected it had been a while for the both of them. She wanted to giggle at the juvenile thoughts crossing her mind: _man, I am going to get so laid._ She palmed Patty’s breast through her shirt and was rewarded with a whimper. 

“You’re loud,” she said, raising her eyebrows, and Patty flushed scarlet. 

“Well,” she said, then busied herself taking off her shirt. Florence suspected she was avoiding making eye contact. Florence took off her shirt too. Patty had on a very functional and old-looking sports bra. She looked surprised to see that Florence was wearing something lacy. “I thought you legally had to stop wearing cute underwear at 37,” she teased. 

“Oh, you know. Some laws are meant to be broken.” They kissed again, falling into a sort of half-reclining position against the arm of the couch. Patty was breathing hard. Florence missed the days when she’d get riled up so easily. It was good, having the younger woman in her arms, reminding her of the joy of letting a near stranger press kisses and bites into your neck. 

“I want you to fuck me,” said Patty breathlessly. “I mean. If you want to. Sorry if that was too much--”

“No, no.” Florence pushed herself up to look down at Patty beneath her. “I like women who know what they want.”

Patty was wearing very short shorts, and they were already in such a groove... Florence decided that they didn’t need to get up. She simply pushed Patty’s shorts and panties aside until she could feel the wet heat of Patty against her fingers. Patty closed her eyes in pleasure. 

“Mm, yeah,” she said. “Fuck yes. Like that. I always-- _oh_ \--I always liked your hands. Good fingers--”

“Thank you.” Patty was already pushing her hips up against Florence impatiently. “You’re quite beautiful.” Florence was suddenly aware of how wet she herself was. 

“Jeez,” Patty mumbled. “Gay.” Florence was saved from a fit of laughter by Patty giving a particularly desperate whine, and redoubled her efforts until Patty was shaking and pushing her hand away. 

In that moment, with Patty slack and panting beneath her, Florence thought she might have her figured out. Then Patty surged up to kiss her, catching her by surprise. 

Maybe, she thought as Patty flipped her over and expertly unclipped her bra to get her mouth on her nipples, she had only one piece of the puzzle after all.


	6. Love's First Explosion (Aubrey/Castille)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey shows Castille some of her explosives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super fuzzy on Marielda, but I love these girls, sooooo

“And this is... safe?” Castille peered closely at the device Aubrey had rigged up. It was composed of several glass bottles filled with supposedly explosive fluid, so Castille had her doubts. 

“Well, of course not,” snorted Aubrey. “But that’s the point. And I do know what I’m doing.” 

“Sure, whatever you say.” The two of them were in an empty lot left by that day’s reconfiguration. They figured that any damage they caused would be gone by morning. Castille didn’t really see why they had to test it at all. _Then you don’t have to come,_ Aubrey had retorted, but Castille was an idiot, so she had put her fears aside and agreed. The two of them didn’t get to be alone together often. 

There was something both adorable and mesmerizing about the way Aubrey’s face got serious when she was working. Some distant part of Castille had only just gotten used to cobbin expressions, but they weren’t really that different from anyone else’s. She was torn between chasing the part of her that had that vaguest of echoes from whoever she had been before (somewhere without cobbins?) and trying to stay rooted in the here and now. Her face was marble; she was probably equally hard to read. 

The whole marble thing was what made this half-crush such a stupid idea. Even if Aubrey liked her back, she didn’t know if she could do romance like this. Sex, certainly not. Well, maybe--no. It was really the part where she disappeared into an unthinking machine for days on end. Not great for stuff like dates.

Still, they all had their vices. This was Aubrey’s, almost certainly. She handled her alchemy with a reverent obsessiveness. Now she stepped back and wiped her hands on her pants. 

“Should be all set. Let’s get behind cover.” They retreated to the relative safety of the makeshift wooden barrier they’d set up in the corner of the lot. It seemed very flimsy. Castille wondered if she’d still be alive if she was blown into pieces, or if she’d be a ghost, or if she’d inhabit just one chunk of marble. The thought almost made her laugh, dark as it was. “What?”

“Um.” Castille didn’t want to explain what she was thinking, so she smiled thinly at Aubrey instead. “It’s weird, is all. But exciting, though!” she added, when Aubrey’s face dropped a little. “You have some really cool skills.”

“Oh, thanks!” Aubrey looked a little flustered, which would have made Castille’s heart flutter if she still had a heart. “Well, here goes.” 

Aubrey darted out briefly and reached down to light the long fuse with a match before settling back next to Castille, a little closer than before. Castille bit her lip.

“Any second n--”

There was a massive explosion, enough to send them both reeling backwards. Castille instantly dove in front of Aubrey, hoping that her stone body would protect Aubrey’s much softer one. _Guard--_

“Castille, are you alright?” Castille half-expected Aubrey’s voice to sound far away, but she guessed marble ears didn’t deafen like flesh ones did.

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, realizing it was true as she said it. She couldn’t feel anything wrong, at any rate. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah! Uh, mostly. Gosh, that sure was bigger than I thought it would be.” Aubrey smiled and sat up, wincing. “I’m so good at my job.”

“What do you mean, “mostly”? Where are you hurt?” Castille ran her hands frantically over Aubrey’s body, searching for--blood, or broken bones, or something. Aubrey pointed grimly at one of her ears, which had a nick in the side. “Oh, no!” Castille gasped.

“It’s fine, I promise you. Stings like hell, but...” Aubrey stood up, despite Castille’s protests. “I think I got hit by part of the barrier.”

“Sit down,” Castille insisted, pulling her by the pants. Aubrey sat down, surprised at the force. “We’re not going anywhere just yet, you can afford a rest.”

“Fine.” Aubrey submitted to being fussed over. 

“I know I’m not one to talk, but this business is dangerous,” said Castille. 

“Then why were you even here?”

“To save your ass,” said Castille, pointedly. “You know, if something like this happened.” Against her will, her hand had migrated to Aubrey’s cheek. Shit. 

“I think you just wanted to see me,” Aubrey joked. Castille didn’t say anything. “Oh my gosh.”

“Shut up.”

“Castille, risking life and limb for me.” Aubrey put a hand over her heart. “Such bravery, such chivalry--mm!” She stopped talking when Castille kissed her. Their mouths didn’t quite fit together the way Castille (barely) remembered more similar mouths fitting together, but she didn’t care as long as her intent got across.

“Well, um,” Castille said when they broke apart. Aubrey was looking at her wide-eyed. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

On the walk home, Aubrey held her hand, and Castille let her. She knew they’d have to talk about what had happened, and get a better look at Aubrey’s ear, but for now Castille tried to appreciate the giddy rushing feeling of holding hands with another woman, a cute woman who had just kissed her and who made her laugh. 

It was all terribly and unusually normal.


	7. Promises (Gray/Demani)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two space moms discuss mortality, family, love, and promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after TM 62, so there's some mild spoilers.

“That settles it,” said Observation, flopping down onto the couch. “I’m never going to another Notion party again.”

“It was a lot, huh,” said Demani. “I don’t know that they’re the Notion anymore, though, so I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“It fucking suuuuucks,” Observation moaned. “I hate change. Everything was okay for a while after the Miracle but now...”

“Nothing lasts forever.” Demani patted him on the shoulder, a comforting action that belied her words. “But that’s a good thing,” she insisted. “If nothing ever changed we’d still be working for the Rapid Evening.”

“Fuck those guys,” Observation mumbled. “You’re right. But I just... don’t want to lose everyone I know again. I can’t believe Grand--never mind.” Gray and Demani exchanged looks. 

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” asked Gray, rolling over to him. He nodded, but squeezed her hand when she squeezed his. “You know, we won’t leave you,” she added. “You’re our family now, if you want to be. That’s not a prediction, it’s a promise.” He turned bright red and scrubbed at his face, clearly trying to hide his tears.

“I... yeah. Means a lot. Thank you. You too. I gotta go put the leftover sandwiches away.” Observation practically ran away down the hallway, and Demani wrapped her arm around Gray’s shoulders. 

“Still there, sweetheart?” Demani tapped her gently, wondering if she’d temporarily abandoned her chassis. 

“Yeah, I’m here. Demani, what am I going to do when you’re gone?”

Demani took a soft breath, then buried her face in Gray’s shoulder. She did this sometimes, let her thoughts percolate for as long as she needed, as if they were still sending each other correspondence. 

“You’re organic,” Gray added. “I’m going to outlive you.”

“Well, maybe. It’s dangerous times.”

“That’s true. I don’t know, beloved. It’s not a question I really want to answer.”

“What’s Observation going to do?” 

“Oh, he’ll be okay. That much I know. He’s been through so much.”

“As if we haven’t.”

“We signed up for this...”

“He was as willing as we were.” Demani shrugged. “Which is to say only kind of.”

“Why is it that it’s so hard to see something’s bad when you’re in the middle of it?”

“Hindsight is sharper, as they say here. Foresight too, as _we_ say.” 

“I don’t want to live forever,” said Gray. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t think we’re the first people to run into this problem,” replied Demani wryly. “I think lots of people wish they could be with their wives forever.”

“My wife.” When Demani looked at Gray, she was grinning. “That’s so good to hear you say.”

“We’re not married yet,” Demani reminded her, but she was fighting the urge to kiss Gray senseless. 

“I look forward to it, then.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Gray cocked her head, bewildered. “Not that we’re getting married! Looking forward, in general. We spent our whole lives looking forward. You keep looking forward to when I’ll be dead. We have to focus on now.” 

“Did you know you’re very wise, my fiancee? My love?” They did kiss then, a brief, familiar brush of lips. 

“No more predictions,” Demani whispered. “Only promises. Gray, I promise to love you right now and in each moment I’m in.”

“You’re going to make me cry. I don’t even have tear ducts.” They giggled, kissed again. “I promise, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I did it! I feel great, since it's been a long time since I actually finished every day of a challenge. Thank you so much, everyone, for coming on this gay journey with me. <3


End file.
